


Wearable Blanket

by lovingdefiance



Series: Hotel Scenes [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bondage, Come Swallowing, Hair Washing, Hand Jobs, Love Across The Universe: Dangan Salmon Team, M/M, Massage, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rubber, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Subdrop, Vibrators, encasement, sleepsack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-12-30 14:24:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18317063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingdefiance/pseuds/lovingdefiance
Summary: He had partly expected something white and strappy, an outfit to match Oma’s strange uniform. The thing in the box was heavy, a bulky coat in some sort of brown, fleecy material. He grunted as he pulled the item from the box and let it unfurl with a heavywhup, the bottom hem low enough to strike the floor. “Ah, Oma-kun, it’s a little big.”Oma, in a generous mood, personally prepares a new uniform for Mister Detective.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **029\. Wearable Blanket** \- A blanket that will completely defend you from the cold by closing off any gaps around your hands, neck, and feet. Moving around in it is near impossible. 
> 
> [That item description though!](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleepsack_\(BDSM\))
> 
> I suppose I'm warning right now for possible **claustrophobia** triggers, okay? Please take care.
> 
> An anon asked if I wanted to write Saihara getting tied up instead, and I did. Sorry that all I seem to be able to do lately is PWP - I need to be in a really good frame of mind to write the longer pieces, and that's been hard recently. But I hope this is okay.

Saihara ran down the gaudy hall of the hotel, watching Oma’s pale form dart easily ahead of him. Petite as Oma’s lithe body was, he had agility to spare. There was no real hope of catching him. “Oma-kun,” he called uselessly. “You can’t...escape the law...forever!”

“Nishishi, you’re a hundred years too late to get me!” Oma shouted back with much more enthusiasm, running toward an open door and leaping through. Saihara dashed in after him and stopped, scanning the ridiculous hotel room for any sign of where Oma might be hiding. “Bang!” shouted Oma from his position behind the open door, slamming it. It locked with an audible clack.

“I found you,” Saihara said as accusingly as he could while still breathing hard. “Just...turn yourself in already.”

“It’s not gonna be that easy. You thought you were gonna catch me, but it looks like I’ve got you now,” Oma sang, beaming as he waved the golden room key back and forth. “But what am I gonna do with you, Mister Ultimate Detective?” Saihara gave him a serious look, every inch the investigator he was pretending to be, and straightened up.

“I don’t think you can say you’ve really gotten me yet,” he pointed out. “There’s still time for you to do the right thing and surrender.”

“Eh, I haven’t got you yet? Hmm...I haven’t _restrained_ you yet, and that’s totally part of the master plan this time, but...that might be a lie.” Oma shrugged. “It doesn’t matter either way. Even if you somehow manage to take the key away from me, my subordinates have this place surrounded. You could let yourself get roughed up, or, well.” His smile narrowed into something threatening, his face lowering to take advantage of the shadow of his hair. “You could submit to me. I promise I won’t do anything _too_ mean to Mister Detective.”

“So that’s your trick.” Saihara cleared his throat. “Um, you’ll never get away with it, though.”

“Oooh...you got some cojones to talk so big, considering where we are.” Oma gestured to the clashing hotel room, the motionless carousel horse beside the bed and the St. Andrew’s cross standing in the corner. “You think your precinct’s gonna find us in a place like this, huh?”

“Considering the scene, it makes more sense than being found in a normal place, doesn’t it?” Saihara asked, regarding the horse and thinking about Oma’s laugh. “You wouldn’t exactly carry out operations from an office building. That isn’t your style, I think.”

“Huh, you’re right. You really _do_ understand me...” Oma shrugged. “Whatever. I’ve decided - today’s the day Mister Detective joins my organization properly. I’ve even prepared your uniform for you,” he said with an innocent smile, spreading his hands out to either side of himself as though in welcome. “And allll I want is for you to change into it for me - you’re free to go after that. We’ll just see if it fits, y’know?”

Saihara glanced around in confusion, then spotted a box placed near the cushions on the ridiculous bed. “You just want me to wear something this time?” Oma nodded, his expression open and ingenuous and the least trustworthy thing Saihara had ever seen.

“It’s gonna be Mister Detective’s uniform from now on,” he said. “I hope you like it. If you don’t like it…” His eyes narrowed sharply, his lips curving in a wicked smile.

“Well...since it seems like we’re surrounded, I guess...I’ll at least take a look,” Saihara offered, already walking around the bed to pick up the box.

“If you don’t like it,” he repeated in a low, dangerous whisper, “then...I’ll definitely cry, y’know? And that’s not a lie,” Oma sniffled, his eyes brimming suddenly with tears. Saihara bit back a ludicrous impulse to assure him that the scene would be fine before he slid the lid from the box and stared at the heap of cloth inside.

He had partly expected something white and strappy, an outfit to match Oma’s strange uniform. The thing in the box was heavy, a bulky coat in some sort of brown, fleecy material. He grunted as he pulled the item from the box and let it unfurl with a heavy _whup_ , the bottom hem low enough to strike the floor. “Ah, Oma-kun, it’s a little big.”

“Waaaaaaah!” Oma wailed, tears spurting from his eyes. “I can’t believe Mister Detective isn’t even giving it a chaaaance-”

“Fine," Saihara conceded. "I’ll try it.” To his surprise, the entire thing felt not only heavy but stiff. He lay it out on the bed and unbuttoned it with some difficulty, blinking in surprise at the thick layer he found inside. Running curious fingers over the material, he found that it was just what it looked like, a dense sheet of dark rubber underlying the fleecy fabric. “Where did you find this, Oma-kun?”

“I won it from the _gacha_ machine,” Oma said mysteriously, holding a secretive finger in front of his mouth. “It’s a wearable blanket! Just put it on, Mister Detective. I think it’s gonna look great on you…”

Saihara weighed a little of the blanket in one hand, running his other hand thoughtfully over the thick rubber. “Will I even be able to run in this?”

“Who knows?” Oma asked in an airy voice, grinning wickedly. “But once you put it on, you’re free to go, just like I promised! It wasn’t a lie, y’know?”

Saihara picked up the heavy garment and prepared to shoulder it. The scene was still unclear to him, but it was obvious that the coatlike blanket was part of it. “In that case,” he acknowledged, “I’ll do my best.”

“Wait! Not so fast,” Oma interrupted, his grin growing even more devious. “It’s probably way too hot, right? Besides, Mister Detective’s gotta get used to being in proper uniform, so take off what you’re wearing first.”

“Aha, I see.” Saihara shrugged the heavy coat away and obediently stripped off, folding his uniform neatly and trying to ignore Oma’s smugly approving stare as he set it all aside on the leather sofa. “All right,” he said, feeling exposed and a little chilly as he began hastily to slide one arm into a stiff rubber sleeve.

“Wait!” Oma interrupted. Saihara startled, pulling his arm back out. “You’re just gonna wear that? That’s alllll you’re gonna wear?”

"You just made me take my clothes off, Oma-kun-”

“Ugh," Oma interrupted loudly. "Maaaan...aren’t you missing something important? I guess I gotta help you out just this once,” Oma sighed, inspecting his own fingernails for a long moment before he strode forward, reaching into the box and producing a silicone toy.

“Was that even in there before, Oma-kun?” Saihara narrowed his eyes at it. The pale shaft was thick and slightly wavy, arched delicately forward and tapering just before the flared base.

“Of course. What do you take me for?” Oma asked, producing a small bottle of lubricant from the box with his other hand. “Some kinda liar or something?”

“Wait! I know _that_ wasn’t in there,” Saihara protested, glancing suspiciously at Oma’s long sleeves. Oma shook them down his arms a little as though to prove that he was concealing nothing in them, his eyes wide and innocuous. He shifted the lubricant bottle over to the hand holding the toy as he did so. “Of course there won’t be anything now-”

“Ugh, whatever! I can’t believe you’re so paranoid.” He shrugged, gesturing toward the bed with his freed hand as he encroached on the naked Saihara. “It’s just part of your uniform, Mister Detective. Better get used to wearing this sort of thing a lot if you’re gonna be working for me!”

Saihara dropped his previous objections, feeling a blush climb his throat as Oma ushered him toward the bed with a palm on the curve of his ass. “It’s just this and a coat!?”

“At least it’s not only a coat!” chirped Oma, bending him over on the huge bed. “That would just be _humiliating_ , right?” Saihara turned his face to the side, the silky golden sheets soft and yielding underneath his upper body, and stared at the leather couch along the far wall as he spread his legs and waited. He heard the faint click of the bottle, the sound of Oma humming thoughtfully. “Wow, weird. This lube was definitely in that box the whoooole time, but it’s just as warm as I am.”

“I wonder how,” Saihara said dryly. A slick finger slipped over his entrance, teasing at his rim. The toy had looked normal enough, he thought - curved to press forward into him, thick enough to keep him open. The wearable blanket was something else. What could Oma’s plans be for it? One finger slid into him as he thought, then another.

“You better feel lucky. I don’t do this for all my subordinates,” Oma said cheerfully, working him open and pausing to add more lubricant. “I mean, not that this is the standard uniform or anything, y’know?”

“I’d be surprised if it were,” Saihara said, closing his eyes and letting himself enjoy the steady penetration. His body filled with a growing hollowness as Oma stretched and worked him open, an increasing appetite for something more substantial, his cock half-hard against the bed. By the time the curved tip of the toy pressed into him he sighed in relief, savoring the sensation of Oma sliding it in and out, pushing it deeper inch by inch.

“Mister Detective’s really into it, huh? Getting this kinda treatment in a place like this? That’s some juicy gossip,” Oma said in a bright, carefree voice. “Imagine if someone came to rescue you _now_.” Saihara let out a harsh breath, his fingers tangling in the sheets as Oma’s thrusts grew rougher. “But it would be super lame if I made you blow your load this fast, sooo… _there_.” Oma gave him one final thrust and left the toy buried deep inside, the flare nestling snug against him. “Now don’t make me help you with the coat, too.” Oma clapped his hands twice sharply in command, then giggled. “Get dressed already! Don’t you have any shame? And in front of your supreme leader, too...”

“Ngh…” Saihara reluctantly stood up, grimacing, and picked up the heavy blanket again. “Not that I agreed to join your organization, but...no more surprises this time? I can just put it on now?”

“Hmmmm? I don’t know what you mean.” Oma tilted his head, staring openly as Saihara slid his arms into the sleeves.

“Fine…” He found both sleeves too long for his arms, the rubber thick and almost unbending. The ends of both sleeves seemed to close inward. If his arms were longer, the fleecy material would close around his wrists, but instead it sealed both of his hands neatly inside. “I can’t get my hands through these,” he observed, flexing his fingers in the limited width of the sleeves.

“Oopsie, guess my tailor got the arm measurements wrong. From now on I guess he’ll be making blueprints in Antarctica,” Oma said airily, then approached Saihara to pull the coat closed around him. “Let’s just see how the rest of the measurements work out, ‘kay?”

“Tailors don’t make blueprints,” Saihara corrected automatically. Oma pushed a button through its corresponding buttonhole, sealing the coat around his chest. “Do they?”

“Hmmm,” Oma hummed absentmindedly, moving up one button and working industriously to slide it through the rubber layer.

“They make patterns,” Saihara realized as Oma buttoned the topmost button just below the base of his throat. “I…” He looked down at Oma, still busily working at the buttons further down. “I can’t move my arms,” he said. The stiff tailoring kept his hands inside the sleeves, the rubber tight and thick enough to hold his arms firmly down at his sides when the coat was buttoned, and with a thrill of nervous excitement curling low in his gut he realized that there was no way for him to unbutton it on his own. Oma had restrained him almost completely.

“It’s no fun letting you escape if there’s not a challenge,” Oma responded, planting both hands on his chest and pushing him back onto the bed. Saihara took a sharp breath in and grunted at the soft impact, the toy jostling inside him, finding himself staring at the gaudy ceiling with its dimmed lights. His legs and the long hem of the coat dangled uselessly from the end of the round bed.

“So that’s what the blanket is for,” he said, half to himself. Oma leaped onto the bed and crawled behind him, looping his arms under Saihara’s immobilized arms and pulling him fully onto the bed with some difficulty.

“Urgh! Oof…” He let Saihara drop to the mattress, then beamed down at him with unsettlingly bright eyes. “Looks like you figured out my plan, Mister Detective.” With renewed energy he slipped off the bed and returned to his previous position at its foot, pulling the coat closed around Saihara’s legs and patiently sealing it shut, button by button.

Saihara experimentally struggled against it and found his whole body immovable, unbending at the waist and the arms, his hands firmly encased inside the long sleeves. Even the weight of the blanket’s long end immobilized his legs, left little room to bend his knees as Oma steadily buttoned it, and the bottom tapered in at the end as though to seal itself shut. Even if his legs were long enough to reach beyond it, the blanket would hobble his legs and make walking almost impossible. “Will you also talk to your tailor about the length?” he asked wryly.

Oma beamed, climbing up to straddle him and bouncing lightly on his restrained body. “You mean about how great it is? ‘Cause I lied, before. This looks like it fits _juuuust_ right...oh, but I wasn’t lying about the other thing. Mister Detective is one-hundred percent free to go!” He cocked his head, eyes shining. “Well, aren’t you gonna leave?”

Saihara attempted to sit up in the constrictive garment and found himself completely immobile. Even Oma’s slight weight felt like an immovable force. He kicked uselessly at the rubber and found himself without leverage on the soft surface of the bed, barely able even to shift himself. “You won’t,” he concluded a little breathlessly, “get away with this.”

Oma cackled terrifyingly, splaying his pale hands across Saihara’s chest and then reaching up to cup his face in both hands. “I’ve already gotten away with it! This is the greatest heist of my career.” He tucked a strand of hair behind Saihara’s ear, his face falling ominously into shadow. “But could that be a lie? We’ll have to find out.” He ground his slight frame down on Saihara’s restrained body, noticeable even though the thick material.

“This is a heist?” Saihara asked, gazing thoughtfully up at him.

“Sure! It started with the stolen gem, but this was my real objective. Stealing Mister Detective! But, y’know...just stealing your _body_ might not be enough,” Oma said as he shifted his hands to Saihara’s chest, straddling and riding his immobile form with his full weight. “Let’s see, huh?” Saihara squirmed uselessly. Even through the rubber he reacted to the indirect stimulus of Oma’s body rubbing against his cock, to the visual of Oma astride him and controlling him so completely. Oma shot a manic grin directly down into Saihara’s face, his hands freely roaming across Saihara’s chest as though groping him through the coat. “Is it too tight?”

“No,” Saihara answered a little breathlessly, struggling in his confines. The motion of his body worked the toy inside him, the steady grinding of Oma’s weight down on his trapped cock a constant stimulation. He let his head fall back, lips parting on a frustrated groan.

“Ooh...I like that!” Oma chirped as he redoubled his efforts. “I wanna hear all kinds of noises from Mister Detective, okay?” He paused to reach into his pocket, pulling out a small remote and thumbing a button. Saihara stiffened as the toy inside him buzzed in a series of low crescendos. The curve of it nestled one of its waves right against his prostate.

“Ah,” he breathed, trembling at the realization that there was nothing he could do about it. Even squeezing and relaxing his muscles only pressed it harder inside him. “Oma-kun…” Oma grinned down at him again, still busily working away.

“Guess you like the uniform after all, huh? You look good like this.” The indirect friction of Oma’s body against his was maddening. Saihara struggled to raise his hips to get more of it, the flexing of his muscles working the toy inside him. There was no doubt it was a good feeling, good enough that he felt his pulse echoing in his dick, throbbing hungrily where his body stretched around the taper of the vibrator. Good as it was, he could tell already that it would go nowhere at all. His hands clenched into fists inside the rubber sleeves.

“I won’t be able to come like this.” Oma’s head tilted, his expression attentive and utterly sincere.

“Do you wanna come now? I thought you wanted to go.”

“I could,” he said with some effort, “want both-”

“Ooooh, equivocation. As a liar, I really appreciate it...buuuut, that’s a lie!” Oma crowed as Saihara squirmed and panted. The rubber was smooth enough that Oma could grind on him for ages, but the constant indirect stimulation and the low vibration were driving him to distraction. “Actually, I hate it when people lie to me.” He idly thumbed the remote, sitting back on Saihara’s restrained legs and relaxing. Saihara choked back a cry as the buzzing intensified, his dick twitching helplessly.

“In what way is this a lie!?” he asked in breathless panic as Oma toyed with the remote, grinning cruelly down at him.

“Well, you can’t come and go at the same time. One or the other!” he chirped, cranking the vibrator down and then rapidly up again. “One...or...the other.” The raw cry that broke out of Saihara’s throat startled even himself. “Gotta make a decision, Mister Detective.” He turned it down again, then up, the sudden changes drawing strangled sounds from Saihara’s mouth. It looked as though Oma were having the time of his life, perched on Saihara and letting out shrill, equine giggles at each choked noise.

“Oh,” he gasped, his body jerking at a particularly rough set of vibrations. “A- _ah_ , Oma-kun-!”

“Come or go, come or go,” he chanted, planting a hand on Saihara’s cock through the rubber and massaging roughly at it through the thick material.

Saihara felt perspiration breaking out on his forehead, the hammering of his heart echoing all around the rough buzz of the toy inside him. It felt as though he were on fire with it. The thought of Oma unbuttoning the blanket and touching him directly, how firm and perfect his hands would be after the indirect stimulation of his weight, was like a balm. “I want to come,” he said, pouring every ounce of earnestness he could into his shaky words. “I’m not lying, I promise, I promise-”

“So you don’t wanna go, huh?” Oma said in a light, singsong voice, and with his free hand slipped one button free where the coat sealed shut over Saihara’s dick. Saihara squirmed desperately as though trying to open the blanket further. “I think that was too easy. Mister Detective isn’t being totally sincere,” he said thoughtfully, unbuttoning another as though preparing to reach inside. Saihara lay motionless, throbbing, every fiber of his being focused on Oma’s poised hand.

“No! I really do want Oma-kun to touch me, I really-”

“Oh, is _that_ all? Like thiiiis?” Oma asked, turning the vibrator up and leaning forward to stroke Saihara’s perspiring face. He let out a hollow groan. “Easy-peasy,” Oma sang, smiling maliciously as he turned it back down. It was torture; Saihara felt dizzy with the warmth surrounding him and the constant maddening array of vibration, his body shaking and twitching with the uneven stimulation. Sweat broke out on his face. It was exactly like Oma, he thought dazedly, to put him through such a dramatic series of extremes. “Mister Detective looks so great when he’s feeling desperate like this. I could watch you for hours, and hours, and _hours_.”

“Please don’t take that long,” Saihara gasped. Oma frowned at him, his expression going abruptly severe.

“Is Mister Detective making demands? Oops,” he said, tapping at the remote.

“Aah-!” Saihara’s body jerked at the sudden strong vibration; he struggled uselessly in the restraining blanket, unable even to bend the sleeves. Oma sat back again, smiling in satisfaction at the sight of Saihara’s futile writhing. The vibrations had begun a new pattern of short, sharp buzzes just on the verge of too much, jolting Saihara’s body at each sudden shock.

Oma, pristine in his white uniform, fondly patted Saihara’s arm. “Any other demands?”

“No, I wasn’t, I-!” Saihara stared up at him through increasingly glazed eyes and thought he might explode. He had no idea what the key was to Oma’s mercy. “Please,” he said, on fire with the intensity of the sensation, “I wasn’t trying to, nngh, _please_...”

“Please what?” Oma asked innocently, tilting his head.

“Please,” Saihara cried out in a startlingly raw voice. “Oma-kun, it’s too much-!”

Oma stroked his hair, pressed a light kiss to his parted lips, and immediately turned the vibration off. “You’re so desperate,” he murmured. “Is that better?” Saihara went limp, his hair wet around the temples with sweat, his mouth open and panting desperately. His cock _ached_ , his body hungry and wanting and shivering with the aftershocks. “No other requests, huh?”

Saihara shook his head, staring helplessly up at Oma’s wide, cruel grin. “N-no, anything you want…”

“Gonna let me decide what you want?” Oma asked. His hand slid inside the restrictive blanket to finally, finally part it, his fingers curling around Saihara’s aching cock as he freed it from the confines. “Okay,” he said, giving Saihara another teasing kiss. “I’ve decided this is what you want. Looks like it feels really good! And your _body_ is honest, right?”

“Yes,” he gasped between kisses, not sure what Oma was talking about but willing to say anything to keep the contact going, to keep the remote from coming back out. “It feels good…”

“I know, this is all you really wanted. Your body just wants what I'm giving it. Your body just wants me, y'know? You _were_ Mister Detective...but now you’re like this. You’re all mine now, Saihara-chan.” The words sent a shock through him, set him trembling in his restraints. Saihara let out a sharp breath, the noise emerging like a sob as Oma began methodically to stroke him.

“Yes,” he repeated mindlessly, shivering, “yes-”

“Right, right. And that means you don’t have to worry about aaanything,” Oma crooned, pausing for a moment to squeeze a little lubricant into his palm. Retrieving the bottle required him to dismount Saihara’s immobile body. He lay beside Saihara when he returned, curled up comfortably against his side. “Just leave everything to your supreme leader, y’know? I’ll take _good_ care of you. You’re not too hot, right?” The low tone of his voice was oddly compelling; Saihara let his head fall back, breathing hard as though he had just finished training, his eyes focusing hazily on the dimmed ceiling lights.

“I’m not,” he said. Oma’s hand mercifully returned and sped up on his dick, building the heat low in his belly and making him struggle to push himself into the touch.

“Does that feel good?” Oma asked in the same voice, slowing down. Saihara grunted, hips twitching in a useless attempt to push into the cage of Oma’s fingers. The motions of his body worked the toy in frustratingly tiny increments inside him. “Don’t worry,” Oma said, his smile widening. “I don’t want you to think about anything. Just stay right there for me. You don’t have to think anymore,” he said softly, curling up further and resting his head on Saihara’s chest as his hand lazily worked Saihara, warm and slick with lubricant. “You’ll never need to think about anything ever again.”

“Um…” Saihara attempted to think of something to say to keep the oddly hypnotic flow of words coming.

“Nope, I don’t need you to talk. This is all I want out of you,” he said coolly, squeezing his fingers tighter around Saihara for a moment. “I just want Saihara-chan to feel real good for me. That’s your job now, ‘kay? You’re just gonna focus on how good it feels.”

“Ah? Okay…” Saihara tried to move his arms, strangely reassured by the way the rubber held him firmly where he lay. Everything had gone vague after the earlier intensity, syrupy-slow and sweet, as though the world had matched Oma’s leisurely pace and narrowed to the soft hand working his cock. He tensed his body rhythmically, shifting the toy’s curves against his swollen prostate and sighing at the slow, even build of pleasure.

“That’s right,” Oma said, squeezing him almost affectionately for a moment and then continuing at the same pace. Saihara lay passive, staring at the ceiling, the steady heat simmering in his body. His head felt light, empty. “I know all about it. Saihara-chan’s brilliant, so he’s always thinking hard about stupid stuff, huh? I bet it’s nice to just let your supreme leader decide instead.” His hand sped up for a minute, then slowed; Oma shifted against him as though to get comfortable, solid and warm even through the thick rubber. “You’ll talk when I want you to, and you’ll come when I decide you’re allowed to. You don’t gotta worry about anything anymore.”

Saihara closed his eyes, feeling the weight of Oma’s head still resting on his chest. The rubber pressed in tight and safe and secure around him, encasing him perfectly, his hands useless at his sides. “You don’t wanna go anywhere, right?” Oma asked after what felt like an eon, still patiently working at him. “You don’t wanna escape, or go back to some stupid precinct, or take me in to face justice. None of that dumb stuff. You just wanna stay here and belong to me now.”

Saihara shivered helplessly, eyes squeezing shut. “Yes,” he sighed. Oma would intuitively understand it was no lie. Beyond the silly roleplay, beyond the setup, he wanted to stay exactly where he was - motionless, unthinking, Oma’s careful hand slowly building pleasure bit by torturous bit in his aching body. It felt as though he were floating.

“You just wanna lay here and let me take care of everything,” Oma said, speeding up again. “Just let your supreme leader decide what you get.” Saihara let out a harsh breath and trembled, his eyelids fluttering. Oma had built it up so long that he felt precariously balanced at the verge of something mindblowing; he moaned in a low voice as Oma’s touch slowed again, left so close that his cock jerked and pulsed in Oma’s grasp. “Nishishi, nope, you’re not ready juuuust yet. You’re gonna endure it for me.”

Saihara would, of course - he had no real choice but to lie motionlessly at Oma’s mercy. The idea would normally be nerve-wracking, but Oma sat up a little and pressed another kiss to his mouth as though to soothe him. Saihara parted his lips obediently, unthinkingly, at the faintest brush of tongue. Oma deepened the contact and Saihara tilted his head into it with a sigh. He kissed back as well as he could, groaning at the stroke of Oma’s tongue along the roof of his mouth.

Oma’s violet eyes had gone narrow, his lips drawn back in a smirk as he pulled back. “You’re learning how to behave, huh?” he asked cheerfully. He leaned in to press another openmouthed kiss to Saihara’s unresisting lips, then another, his hand continuing its endless stroking. Saihara’s entire body twitched as the vibration started again inside him, a low and constant buzz. “So _useful_. I’ll be able to use your body all the time, just like this...”

The words ignited something in the pit of his stomach, his cock jerking in Oma’s grip. “Yes,” Saihara said faintly between kisses. Oma withdrew, his grin wide and victorious.

“I’m glad. I’ve stolen you for realsies, now,” Oma said cheerfully. “And now that you’re allll mine, I’m gonna use you however I wanna...that’s all you want too, right? Saihara-chan loooves being of use, after all.”

Saihara, gritting his teeth against the frustrating pleasure of the vibrator, nodded helplessly. Oma unbuttoned the lower buttons of the blanket, spreading it wide around Saihara’s bared lower body and giving his cock another teasing squeeze, stroking him until he squirmed and shut his eyes tight. “Oma-kun,” he finally said, his soft, polite voice choked with want as he spread his legs wide. It felt as though he would explode, as though Oma could breathe on his cock and he would go off like a firework.

Oma laughed, patting one of his thighs before climbing between his splayed legs. Even trapped inside the still-buttoned top half of the wearable blanket, Saihara felt exposed, stripped barer than he had before putting it on. Oma urged his legs up into high arches as though to inspect the vibrator still pressed deep into his body. “Saihara-chan feels so warm,” he breathed reverently as he fumbled with his belt to free his own erection, reached into his pocket, and produced a condom to unwrap. “It’s gonna be awesome,” he said as he rolled it down over his length. Saihara stared up at Oma’s intense expression as his freed legs were picked up and hooked over Oma’s shoulders, small hands arranging his position as Oma knelt between his thighs and worked the toy out of him to leave an aching, wanting hollowness. He clicked the vibrator off and set the toy to the side.

“Yes,” Saihara sighed as the blunt head of Oma’s cock pressed into him, replacing it at once. Oma’s expression was delighted as he sank himself a little deeper, shivering in pleasure; Saihara’s fingers worked at the rubber of the sleeves as though trying to find something to grip, curling and uncurling against smoothness. It felt more than satisfying to be spread open, pierced by Oma himself - he shook helplessly, his eyes squeezing shut as his body clenched, trying to coax the penetrating cock deeper inside.

“Mmm…” Oma smiled, tilting his head against one of Saihara’s legs, and gave a teasing little thrust. Saihara let his head fall back, a whimper escaping through his gritted teeth. “Looks like that feels nice,” he said, stroking one of Saihara’s thighs. “But you’re not allowed to come until after your supreme leader’s finished with you, ‘kay? Nishishi...” He pulled out and pushed back in, a long, sweet thrust that drove himself deep into Saihara’s body.

The air escaped Saihara in a ragged cry as he was fully penetrated, stretched on Oma’s cock, his legs jerking reflexively against the encircling arms. Oma’s fingers dug into his thighs with bruising force; he wasted no time building up speed, hammering enthusiastically away as Saihara gasped beneath him. “Just like this,” he said, his long tendrils of hair sticking to his forehead with perspiration as his hips collided sharply with Saihara’s body. Even being roughly jostled felt good, satisfying, deep down inside. “I’ll keep you just like this, I’ll-” He tilted his head back, thrusting in rapid, energetic motions. “I’ll fuck you just like this, whenever I wanna!”

Saihara forced his twitching muscles to relax, desperately fighting the coiling, electric heat in his belly and trying not to look at Oma’s rapturous expression as he spoke. “Oma-kun,” he panted, shuddering. His untouched cock jerked against his belly, bobbing with every thrust, smearing lines of precome on his skin. “If you talk like that, I’ll definitely-”

“Then I’ll stick the vibe back in,” Oma said, not missing a beat as his cock plunged feverishly into Saihara again and again. Saihara trembled helplessly, his arms immobilized and his legs held tight by Oma’s wiry arms. The constant friction, the forceful thrusting built a brute-force pleasure embarrassingly fast in his body, and the effort in Oma’s voice as he issued his threats did nothing to slow it. “As soon as you come, I’ll put it back, and I’ll touch you-”

“I understand,” Saihara choked out in an attempt to cut off Oma’s words, shaking as though he would fall to bits. He tightened around Oma’s cock in erratic spasms, fighting the increasing tension in his muscles. Brought close so many times, he felt hypersensitive, ready to go off at even the slightest bit more stimulation; worse yet, he urgently wanted it, his whole body thrumming with an almost uncontrollable need to come. His lips parted on a long, hollow groan.

“You’re so good,” encouraged Oma, “you’re doing so _good_ for me, Saihara-chan!” He let out a high whinny of laughter, not slowing for even a second as he relentlessly fucked into Saihara’s shaking body. “Just, haaa, just keep it up, keep it up...”

Saihara let his head loll feverishly from one side to the other, his teeth gritted, his cock leaking precome in clear lines across his abdomen as the roiling electricity curled in his belly and shot up his spine. “Please,” he gasped, breathless and desperate and almost tearful with want, “Oma-kun, I _can’t_ …”

Thankfully, Oma’s enthusiasm usually got the better of his endurance. He came quickly with a shuddering, pitchy gasp, leaning forward over Saihara like the wind had been knocked out of him. His hips jerked in small, desperate motions as his fingers clutched and squeezed Saihara’s legs, his hair sticking to his forehead in strands, his eyes glazed with pleasure. “Ahhhh…” He leaned his head on one of Saihara’s legs, his lips drawing back in a satisfied grin.

Saihara panted, his head lolling back, his hair hanging limp with sweat. “Please,” he said, feeling hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He shivered at the careful pull of Oma’s cock sliding out of him, the aching hollowness inside him followed by the gentle curl of fingers around his cock; Oma jerked him slow and deliberate, smiling fondly down at him. "Please." His hand tightened, working Saihara faster and faster. “Oma-kun, I’m - I’m going to…”

“Okay.” Oma shrugged Saihara’s legs from his shoulders and planted his hands on Saihara’s hips, leaning forward and taking Saihara’s cock into his mouth. “Mmmmh,” he sighed in satisfaction, sucking down the length of it and swallowing hungrily as his lips reached the base. Saihara let his head fall back, a breathless cry escaping him, and came easily down Oma’s waiting throat. Oma swallowed around him as he trembled and sobbed at the intensity, his hips twitching helplessly against Oma’s hands. Crying out in a broken voice, he came in long spurts as though he would never stop, his vision whiting out and his mind going blank with pleasure and the sheer relief of finally being permitted release.

Saihara could see nothing for a long moment until he came back to himself and found Oma straddling him, already unbuttoning the remaining buttons with deft fingers. He gazed uncomprehendingly up at Oma as small, pale hands pushed the wearable blanket open. “Hmm...are you there now? C’mere,” Oma coaxed gently, helping Saihara pull his arms from the sleeves by rolling his half-limp body from side to side. “There you go, theeere you go…”

He gently extracted Saihara from the blanket, helping him sit up. Saihara stared at him blankly, overwhelmed, feeling hollowed-out and jellylike. An open bottle of water sliding into his hands awakened him slightly, cold as it was; he felt the coldness of the water blaze a trail down his parched throat and into his stomach when he took a long drink, sending tendrils of life out into his exhausted limbs. “Oh,” he said, staring at the water and then finishing it off in a few long gulps. “Thank you.”

“Does that feel better?” Oma asked, taking away the empty bottle and tossing it carelessly to the side. “Is Saihara-chan okay?”

His violet eyes were wide, his expression intent; he was listening closely, Saihara thought, waiting for a genuine answer. His mind churned, with some difficulty, back into action. “I’m…” He flexed his arms, working his elbows and shoulders. “Really tired.” Oma nodded, humming thoughtfully. “A little sore,” he added, rotating his shoulders and flexing his elbows again.

“Sure, I can work some of that tension out,” Oma murmured. “But if you’re up to it, let’s get you cleaned up first, ‘kay? Saihara-chan probably got pretty hot and sweaty in there.” Saihara looked at the shower room. “C’mon,” Oma said. “As your supreme leader, I gotta make sure you’re in good shape for my sake, right? That's just how it is.”

Saihara smiled despite himself at the words. “Right,” he said wryly. “Not that I agreed to that _outside_ of this scene, but…” Oma slid from the bed, kicking the empty water bottle across the room with a casual foot, and offered Saihara his hands.

“Nishishi, I know, I know. C’mon,” he repeated, beckoning with all of his outstretched fingers and grinning widely. Saihara met his steady gaze, nodded, and reached back.


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little aftercare chapter. This series always features an aftercare chapter. It isn't even by popular demand or anything, I just want to write hair-washing scenes...That's how it is.

“So, what do you think?” Oma asked conversationally, poking at the buttons of the complicated bathtub. “About what bath fragrance you want, I mean. Um...yuzu, rose, lavender. Maybe all of them at once,” he mused, tapping a thoughtful finger against his lips. “The more the better, right?”

“Please don’t do that,” Saihara requested, sitting on the nearby bathing stool and rinsing soap from himself with the showerhead. He had dimly been aware, trapped inside the blanket, that he had been sweating. Only when he emerged clammily into the air and began to rehydrate did he realize how much. “Um...lavender, please. Or nothing.”

“Lavender, got it!” Oma’s fingers danced across the buttons like he was born to operate the strange bathtub. Saihara stared at a wide assortment of plastic bottles, trying to select a shampoo from the selection Oma had prepared for him. The small wooden tub had been filled with over a dozen shampoos and conditioners of various fragrances; too many, really, with how heavy his body felt and how foggy his mind was. He selected one at random as Oma fiddled with the bathtub controls. Oma spared him a glance. “So Saihara-chan likes smelling pretty sometimes, huh? I don’t dislike that,” he said conversationally as the tub began to fill. “Y’know, you’re lucky I’m letting you soak first.”

“I know,” Saihara responded, scrubbing honey vanilla shampoo into his hair. It was a much sweeter smell than the sharp, herbal scents he had chosen for his own bathroom, odd and unfamiliar. The thick lather coursed down his shoulders and back. “But you can soak first if you want to, Oma-kun.”

The rising lavender-scented steam couldn’t stop the slow-growing chill inside him. His body felt strange, his limbs free but heavy - there were too many bottles and too many fragrances, too much to process. Oma stared quietly at the filling bathtub, dipping his fingers into it and playing with the water. His expression was neutral and bored. Saihara, staring at him, shivered despite himself. He hastily picked up the showerhead and rinsed his hair to feel the warm water on his skin.

“I can?” Oma asked, trotting back over to fetch a fresh washcloth and steal the bar of soap. The long swoops of his hair bobbed cheerily with each step. “You’re gonna let me? But who gave _you_ the right to go first in the first place?” He soaped the cloth and laved his own body, not bothering to sit down on the upended bucket next to Saihara’s small bathing stool.

Saihara stared at his pale form in the steam as he rinsed himself off, the slender lines of his body limned with shining water. “I know you did, but…”

“Mmm, that’s right, I did. Good job, Saihara-chan!” He inspected the shampoo and smiled, wide and bright and, as a strange feeling deep in Saihara’s gut told him, probably fake. He felt his stomach sink at the sight of the familiar expression. “If I wanted to go first, I’d go first. Don’t delude yourself!”

“Ah…” He handed the shampoo to Oma, who set it back in the bucket and crouched down to sort through the various bottles instead. “I understand.” Oma produced a pale purple bottle and squeezed it into his hand, scrubbing it carelessly into his wet hair. A white, lavender-scented froth dripped down to his bony shoulders. Saihara followed it listlessly with his eyes; Oma glanced at him and continued smiling.

“Hey,” he said in a casual tone. “Wanna play with me more, or are you just kinda out of it right now?”

“Ah, no. I’m sorry.” He handed the showerhead to Oma, who hung it back on the wall and squatted to comb through the bottles again. He produced a white bottle and squeezed it into his palm, then smeared a thick, cold substance into Saihara’s hair. “H-hey-”

“I don’t care if you just wanna stare at me, y’know? But there’s matching conditioner,” Oma said, leaning forward and combing it through with his fingertips. Saihara shivered again, staring at the floor tiles. They were set imperfectly, he noticed, as though the floor beneath the tiles was uneven, and in a nervous motion he worked his toes back and forth over the raised edge of one tile. “Saihara-chan chose the vanilla one, right?”

“Yes,” he said. It was too hard, somehow, to admit that he had chosen it at random after Oma had provided so many options. The hands in his hair were thorough but careful, working the thick cream into the roots of his hair. He tried to minimize the shivering as Oma massaged his scalp in long strokes and picked up the showerhead to rinse out the conditioner.

“You look cold. Let’s get this done so Saihara-chan can get in the bathtub where it’s warm,” he sang, still working the fingers of his other hand through Saihara’s hair.

“Thank you,” he responded mechanically. Oma walked around him to push at his back. He stood a little more shakily than he had expected, his legs strange and quivery beneath him.

“C’mon,” he said. “Get in the bath already, Saihara-chan.” Saihara kept his stride firm until he climbed into the bath, sinking into the water and stifling a sigh of relief as he watched Oma busily rinse the shampoo from his own hair. He scrubbed his arms as the water cascaded through his hair, his expression suddenly neutral.

The smile had fallen away as soon as he focused on himself. As though, Saihara thought, he was just putting on a show. He looked at his own body vanishing into the cloudy, scented bathwater, the air thick and floral with steam.

Somehow, he thought, Oma seemed far away.

* * *

“Here you go,” Oma said, twirling a soft blanket around Saihara’s hunched shoulders and drawing it close around him. Saihara sat in his boxers on the silky, ugly bedsheets, leaning back against the heart-shaped headboard. “‘Cause Saihara-chan’s cold, right? Even after a bath...”

“Ah...yes, I am. Thank you.” Saihara accepted the blanket, the huge, fluffy gray one he had chosen from the warehouse. Oma was doing everything right, he thought: touching him, talking to him, keeping him hydrated and warm. He looked down at his hands, the plush wrinkles of the blanket where his fingers gripped it.

“I thought maybe you might wanna watch something, or read something…” Oma hummed busily, rummaging through a backpack Saihara had overlooked in the corner of the room and producing a few slim volumes. “Or if you just wanna sleep for a little while, that’s fine too, y’know?” He glanced up, towel-dried hair swaying damp around his shoulders. Saihara took a deep breath, looking at him across the room. _Come here_ , he thought.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said instead. Oma tilted his head, his smile going quizzical.

“Why not?” he asked. Saihara shrugged, looking back down at the blanket. Oma remained quiet for a long moment; Saihara looked up and found his expression neutral instead, his smile gone. Somehow it was worse than the smile, this confirmation of what he had feared - that it had been a lie after all.

“I’m sorry. Oma-kun isn’t doing anything wrong,” he said, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He had said the wrong thing. He felt strangely bereft, a dull grief throbbing in his chest. “I’ll definitely get over it, so…”

“Hey. Does Saihara-chan wanna be alone right now?” Saihara jerked upright, his fingers loosening on the blanket.

“No, that’s wrong!”

“Ah, okay.” Oma shrugged, his lips twitching back into a smile. “It’s fine, y’know? Needing some alone time. If Saihara-chan just feels a little weird, I can get you something to eat, or-”

“Please come here,” Saihara blurted out, covering his lips reflexively as he said it. Oma approached, still smiling as Saihara shrugged the blanket away and reached out for him.

“Eh...yeah, okay.” Oma crawled onto the bed and let Saihara pull him close, his back nestled against Saihara’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Saihara repeated.

“What for?”

“You’re doing everything right. It’s my fault.” Oma’s body felt warm against him, all spine and shoulder blades and soft, even breaths. “Are you bored?”

“Wow.” Oma tilted his head back to meet Saihara’s eyes, his expression sober. “You’re thinking about dumb, pointless things like other people’s feelings even when you’re feeling like this yourself, huh?” He shifted himself back further, slotting his body perfectly against Saihara. “But you know what? I’m not bored at all.”

Saihara let go for a moment to lift up the blanket again, wrapping it around himself and gathering Oma up in it as well. His warmth slowly began to seep into Saihara’s body. “I enjoyed it,” he said as though to reassure Oma. “Doing that with you.”

“Nishishi, I had lots of fun with Saihara-chan too.” Oma’s damp hair pressed against his chest, warm and lavender-scented. “Hey, hey. You said your shoulders were kinda stiff, right?”

“Ah, it’s not really-”

“Stop lying,” Oma said lazily. “You’re no good at it, Saihara-chan, just lemme do this for you.” Saihara reluctantly released him and allowed Oma to crawl behind him. Small hands pulled the blanket down slightly to knead at his shoulders. “Don’t be an idiot. It’s not your fault.”

“What…?” Saihara felt the residual soreness melting away, his joints loosening as Oma’s hands pulled his shoulders back, then worked brisk and firm between his shoulder blades where his tension was stored.

“People just feel like that sometimes. Afterward, y’know? It’s not anyone’s fault.” The grinding of Oma’s palms into his muscles ached in a dull, satisfying way; he let the blanket fall slightly to give him more room to work. Oma pushed him gently forward until he was on all fours. “C’mon, lie down.” Saihara lowered himself to his belly, allowing Oma to straddle him and push down hard into his back muscles with the heels of his hands, working his way steadily down.

He groaned out loud as Oma’s full weight pressed down against his knotted muscles, his eyes slipping closed. Oma arranged the soft blanket over the rest of his body, kneeling on it and drawing it taut around him as though restraining him again. The tightness and warmth were suddenly reassuring; Oma’s hands felt hot and surprisingly strong as they ground him down into the bed.

“How’s that?” Oma asked, his weight rhythmically shifting as he leaned his weight down on his hands again and again. “Keep breathing.” Saihara took a deep breath and let Oma’s steady pressure push it out of him in soft exhalations. “Saihara-chan did such a good job for me,” he said conversationally. “Hey, Saihara-chan…”

Saihara took another breath and relished in the feeling of it being pushed from him, the feeling of being securely restrained again, his eyelids fluttering. The hollow feeling in him remained but ebbed, the coldness slowly vanishing from his bones. “Yes?” he asked softly. It helped, he thought, to be under Oma’s power - not to think about anything or make decisions.

“You remember what I told you, right? About my organization?”

“You’ve told me a lot about it,” Saihara murmured, his eyes still closed.

“Hmm...” Oma worked at him with surprising patience, massaging the tension out of his muscles until he was fully lax on the bed. Saihara felt sleep creeping up at the edges of his consciousness as the blanket was pulled back up around him; he shifted exhaustedly beneath Oma, who relaxed on top of him and pinned him securely to the mattress. “Like I told you before, my organization is ten thousand strong...but it doesn’t need a leader.”

“Oh,” he said, dimly realizing what Oma was trying to say. “No, that’s…that’s wrong.”

“Nishishi...” Oma’s arms wrapped around him from above. “No, it’s absolutely one-hundred percent true. But you’re not part of my organization, right? So you made your own choice to need me, huh?” Saihara wondered if he was hallucinating the faint uncertainty in Oma’s words. It seemed unreal to him.

“That’s right,” Saihara said quietly, opening his eyes with an effort. “I...I did need this, Oma-kun.”

Oma shifted a little. The weight of his body held Saihara utterly motionless, wrapped snug in the fluffy blanket and warmed by his heat. “So…” His voice had gone low, soft. “You’re not bored?”

Saihara felt dizzy, as though the exhaustion had been kept away only by his tension and Oma had stripped away that defense. Tiredness crashed in on him in waves, drawing him steadily out to sea. His eyes fluttered shut again. “No,” he whispered. Oma smelled of lavender. He wondered if the fragrance had been chosen to soothe him.

“Saihara-chan.” Oma sighed in what sounded like satisfaction or relief, letting his arms drape carelessly over Saihara’s ribs. He sounded, at last, as tired as Saihara felt - as though his own tension had been stripped away as well, finally leaving his exhaustion bare. “Then let’s both go to sleep.”


End file.
